


I'm a Maximum Consumption, Super-Grade Performer

by rocknrollsalad



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Not Beta Read, Over Eating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-20
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-04-10 06:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4381451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknrollsalad/pseuds/rocknrollsalad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce Banner has a secret life as a competitive eater and today Tony gets to see that in action. </p><p>It's a cute and simple little date between the two where Bruce gets to shine as the star, the one good at something, even if it's because of a Hulk sized appetite.</p><p>Just dropping this gif here as evidence if you want it:<br/>https://38.media.tumblr.com/367581c7afad8e07ddaa631148072d1e/tumblr_nqobpfPaWl1qa1s2no10_r1_250.gif</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a Maximum Consumption, Super-Grade Performer

Codename: Veronica.

Mark XLIV

Tony and Bruce had been working together for some time now on a way to take care of the other guy in case things got out of Dr. Banner’s control. It wasn’t an easy project for either man, but there was a lie that they hung around the lab just to make it all easier.

 _This would never be needed_.

Not so deep down both men knew that wasn’t true, there was a very real need for this. The part they didn’t know was the when or where. Never would be great but never wasn’t a reality. Veronica was a necessity wrapped in a cute code name.

Their work had gone beyond the blueprints, beyond the talking and hypothesizing and was at the actual construction. It was easy work for Tony, he’d built so many suits, more failures than successes and most with less planning. He was able to go into that zone, just do the work and push the reason from his mind.

Bruce wasn’t so lucky. He could help with the construction though it wasn’t as easy for him, it was the first set of armor he’d worked on beyond a few helpful ideas here and there. Tony was getting better at working with someone and listened when Bruce insisted he have his hands in every part of this.

However, this was a suit of armor meant to take down the other guy. He was spending his spare time constructing a suit that he couldn’t destroy but could destroy him. Emotions were running high for the doctor, it was a lot to take on and though he tried not to show it, that only seemed to make things worse.

Periodically, Bruce would have to excuse himself from the lab. To him, it looked like Tony barely noticed but it was intentional as the man focused on welding pieces together or some wiring. Tony wanted to look like he didn’t notice but in reality he’d seen the departure coming. He’d noticed Bruce yelling at his screen for being too bright or dropping his bottle of water and his eyes glowing green for a split second. Tony noticed the different breathing techniques Bruce used to keep himself regulated. The doctor needing to leave was obvious.

To Bruce, if he’d left, gone to the safe room and transformed willingly he felt it would keep him in control and, therefore, keep everyone safe. This usually worked, a few times he was too late and there was a rampage around the level of the Tower meant just for this, but no one was ever hurt.

Afterward, Bruce would nap, maybe take a shower, definitely clean up some, and head right back to the lab to pick up the work. Tony wouldn’t say anything, but he kept track of this, there was stored data on how often this was happening, how long Bruce was gone, it was all cataloged away without the doctor’s knowledge.

One of the things Bruce never seemed to think to do was eat. Once he came to and cleaned, which made him better, his peace offering for any damage caused, he was thinking about the work. Neither he nor Tony was particularly good at doing things like eating or sleeping while they were working. Sleep wasn’t high on either’s list even outside the lab.

Now Tony ate very little. He was a snacker at best and lived on smoothies. Bruce would pick at whatever was around the lab, never eating too much of any one thing at a time as his thoughts were elsewhere.

It wasn’t until their work had the other guy showing up that Bruce found himself getting hungry in a way he couldn’t ignore. There was a heightened metabolism that came with the gamma radiation. The transformation left him in need of more food than a man should be able to put away, it’d always been like this.

In fact, in the early days, while still in America, Bruce started to find those restaurants that offered eating challenges. It was a very American thing to do unfortunately but huge in the southwest, where Bruce was often was. You could go into a place, eat a 48-ounce steak, a few sides, and wash it down with a drink and if you did it fast enough it was free. It was the best way to feed the other guy on the cheap.

Third world countries didn’t offer these sorts of deals and Bruce was working to not see the other guy, but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten the best way to satisfy a larger than life hunger. After the Avengers waged war on the Chitauri, Bruce found himself in a Manhattan dive eating burger sliders like they were popcorn. He set the record and to his knowledge no one has come close since.

There were little legacies like this all over the nation. All under assumed names, all terrible pictures of Bruce done purposely so you couldn’t see his face (not exactly wise to have your picture hung on the wall when you’re on the run) but Bruce knew they were there.

After his third trip down to the safe room in nine days, Bruce had a hunger he couldn’t ignore anymore. Either he stopped his work and found food or he just stopped. Knowing full well the other man didn’t eat as much as he should Bruce suggested they take a break and go out for some food. They needed to eat.

Reluctantly, Tony agreed. He didn’t want to stop working but Bruce was right, they needed food and work would go better if they'd eaten. Everyone was nagging him all the time to eat more, but all Bruce had done was ask for company while he went to eat. That much was manageable.

Both men went off to shower, Tony needed to shave and the both needed clean clothes. While Bruce changed he looked up some place to go, he needed some place with one of these food challenges desperately.

He should have felt some embarrassment, you typically aren’t supposed to bring dates out and make a complete pig of yourself, but there wasn’t any shame in the doctor. There was some pride and something close to excitement. He wanted to take Tony to do this. There wasn’t a lot you could offer a man who had everything but little pieces of yourself were things that no amount of money could get you. Tony was going to get a little piece of who Bruce was before the Avengers and Bruce was glad to share.

Bruce gave the driver the address to a fish and chips shop in the city and sat back, finding himself getting incredibly use to this lifestyle.

“You picked the place and everything. How sweet.”

“Real gentleman.” Bruce deadpanned back with the roll of his eyes, he was used to Tony and the jokes didn’t bother him much. “No. I, uh, needed something specific tonight.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. I need to eat more than the average serving of food and as fun as it sounds to get kicked out some sleazy all-you-can-eat buffet, I thought I’d go for the challenge over the good story.”

This has Tony’s interest piqued. Not only at the fact that Bruce was willing to eat so much he’d be asked to leave a restaurant but that he was okay with being kicked out of one. Add to that the fact that he was throwing out some challenge for them and Tony was glad he’d decided to leave the lab.

“Alright. Not mad I’m in the car now. Where are we going?”

“British restaurant. Terrible pun for a name, claims authentic British food though I’m still not sure why anyone would want to go eat that. We’re mostly interested in the fish and chips. Of course, they boast not only the best in the city but the best stateside…”

As Bruce rambled on about his choice in dining establishments Tony turned to better face him. He liked watching this, there was something different in the way Bruce spoke. Tony had seen the other excited, tripping over his words trying to share the results they’d been searching for for months, he’d seen him explain the projects he was truly passionate about, those that were near and dear to the doctor’s heart but truthfully Tony never tired of it. There was a similar spark here and that was miles away from the knocked down, worn out man who’d returned to the lab early this morning after yet another “break”.

“...but I don’t think that’s true nor do I think anyone could prove such a claim. However what they do have, why we’re really going is there’s this challenge, it’s called something-something Fat Bastard. Fish, chips, mushy peas, and some soda. You get twenty minutes to finish it all.”

“Sounds like a good time, it’s been awhile since I had a good batch of chips, but I gotta know, B. Are we attempting this or just going for the show? Y'know I’m not much of eater.”

Thanks to his lack of concern for his well-being coupled with the ability to get extremely invested in work, Tony was certain he’d worked his stomach to the size of a pea. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d finished an entire meal and Bruce was talking about a lot of food here.

Bruce was ready to fight dirty. He was in a good mood. Happy to be leaving the Tower, which was another shock, but it was necessary. The sunlight barely coming in through the heavily tinted windows, the meal he was ready to devour, and the fact that he knew he was going to be victorious in this influenced his mood. This made the banter a little easier.

“Oh, we’re participating. That is unless you don’t think you can do it.”

“Alright. We’re going to play like that? You’re on.” Tony lowered his sunglasses from the top of his head to over his eyes, leaning back in his seat. “And you’re going to lose.”

The pair spent the rest of the drive trading well meant insults and talking a big game. Tony didn’t have a leg to stand on here and he knew that even Bruce knew that but why couldn’t they have a little fun with their meal.

It was a small shop, one that seemed to hit every tourist shop in Britain and then decorated with that. There was even a British taxi cab parked out front which seemed ridiculous to take up a parking space like that but what did Bruce care? He didn’t drive.

There was a tea shop next door that caught the doctor’s attention as well, he’d have to remember the try it out. Tony noticed and offered for them to head in there first, but Bruce declined, now that he was here he was hungry.

The inside was as small as the outside looked. It was almost empty inside, but it was mid-day. Most people were at work, after the usual lunch hours but before most clocked out. It was perfect for the pair. Bruce darted straight to the back of the place. Furthest corner from the door and took the table.

Following right behind him was Tony, who’d nodded to the employee behind the counter and quickly fell into that confusion of did Tony Stark just walk into my establishment. The look was normal and he paid no attention, instead he did what was becoming a regular thing, escaping to the back corner.

Leaning over the table, elbows planted firmly, hands folded, taking up nearly all of the small amount of table space they had Bruce looked over his glasses towards a white piece of paper with the rules.

“You ready to do this? It’s really not that much,”

“All you’re doing is stalling, Banner. My name is going to make that terrible duct tape leader board and it’s going to be higher than yours.”

Bruce grinned, beamed even. Nodding his head he stood and did something a little out of character for him, walking right to the counter and talking to the gentleman who worked there. There was a long conversation which didn’t make sense to Tony, but he was also caught up in wondering where he was going to put all this food.

Finally, he could see Bruce take out his wallet, still the same old tired piece of cheap leather barely wrapped around some cash and an ID. Tony made a note to buy the man another one.

Walking back over with a bottle of water and a brown bottle Tony wasn’t sure what was, Bruce slid back into his seat, placing them both on the table. Then he pulled a timer from his pocket, given to him by the restaurant.

“It took some arguing and I had to agree on bigger beverages for it to count but I got a water and got you this bottle of imported ale from London, the guy was very excited about it when I asked which tasted better. Neither of us really wanted the soda, but now we’ve got to drink all this instead.”

As he spoke, Bruce pushed the bottle towards Tony. The typical brown but with a red label, gold letters. Bruce was right, it was better than a can of Coke. Shrugging his shoulder, it was pushed to the side.

“So where’d this all come from? Why are we doing this?”

“I made a habit of this, uh, back when...well the other guy came about. He really zaps my energy and I’m always hungry. When you’re on the run you don’t exactly want to use your bank card so I had limited funds. This? This is a lot of food that I knew I could get for free. It was ingenuity.”

“Impressed.” Tony nodded his head with a crooked smile. “Not your first rodeo then?”

“Not by a long shot. If this were sports I’d have the cool sweater and you’d be carrying the water.”

“Oh, the food isn’t even here yet, B. Don’t count me out of your little cool sweater club just yet.”

“I’m going to beat you at this, Tony.”

Bruce sat back, he was cocky. It was something Tony hadn’t seen before, not sincerely, Bruce could fake it, play the part, but this was real. God, it did things to him. A small part of Tony almost didn’t care if he lost, a very tiny part, just to see this side of Bruce.

They didn’t talk much after that. Bruce sat there in his confidence, Tony watched him, and they waited for their food.

It wasn’t a long wait, Frying up fish and potatoes? It was easy and not even ten minutes after they ordered the man who took the money and the cook came walking out with arms full of food, setting one of each item in from of the men. Bruce smiled when a side order of baked beans was placed in front of them, it wasn’t part of the challenge, he’d added extra food.

Tony gave him a look that said he was going to pay for that, but he was getting in the zone now. He was ready to win, expand his stomach to hold, in one sitting, more than it did in a month. Watching as Bruce cracked open his water and they both listened to the man repeat the rules.

With twenty minutes on their small kitchen timer, Bruce’s finger hovering over the start button he shot a look across the table. Not the expected ‘you don’t have to do this’ or maybe the less obvious ‘it’s not too late to back out’, no, the only thing his gaze said was ‘you’re going down’.

Beep.

Time was ticking down. Bruce took a minute to set the timer up carefully on top of the napkin dispenser. Grabbing the vinegar and looking up at Tony who had three fries stuffed into his mouth at once, no ketchup or vinegar just eating. This only furthered Bruce’s need to draw out the setup.

He knew he had the time. Pouring the vinegar over the fish and the chips, putting the bottle carefully back where it came from. Then he pulled out a few napkins in preparation to the sound of Tony growling through a mouthful of food.

“If you pause for a drink those will go down easier but it’s not smart to start with the fries, they’re heavy.”

Tony glared at the advice, as right as it was, but kept up what he was doing. Stubborn to the end, he kept eating at this two pounds of chips.

Bruce shrugged, no more playing, done dragging this out to be a terrible person. Though being terrible was quite fun. And he picked up the fish. Not the smartest start but he was getting all of this down and he knew it, plus fish didn’t taste as good cold.

Here was Bruce’s only problem with this challenge, the fact that they were forcing him to eat the tartar sauce. Not a favorite condiment of his, He had to eat it though and it had to go on the fish, there was no other place it’d taste as good, so he dunked the fish in and started eating.

The bite didn’t even look like he’d had time to chew it before another was going in. That was how bite after bite went. Bruce was inhaling the food. His focus began to narrow, no longer worried about his surroundings, how much Tony had put away, who was coming in the door, or the staff who kept checking on them. It was just bite after bite.

Tony, on the other hand, was losing the focus on his food. The man across from his was shoveling food in without coming up for air. Now he understood the cocky attitude. After a few moments of blank staring, his look switched to impressed as he pushed a few more of the fries into his mouth, already full and reaching the point of disgusted.

A smile formed around the bit of food as Bruce changed from the fish to the peas. Eight ounces, it was nothing, Bruce practically drank it down. There was a hearty laugh from Tony as the empty container was pushed to the side and Bruce found his next target; the chips.

Leaning back, Tony threw in the towel. There was no way he was going to eat even one element of this challenge and he was smart enough to know when he was beaten. Crossing his legs and leaning back to pull his phone from his pocket, Tony checked a few messages before he started videotaping this show in front of him.

With all of his food having nearly disappeared Bruce came out of that zone he’d entered, the rest of the world coming back to him. Tony was just sitting there, sending a message it looked like, Bruce furrowed his brow as he looked from the table back to the other. Tony had given up.

To add insult to injury here, Bruce reached over and stole some of the fries from Tony’s basket. Not only did this disqualify Tony as there was clear no sharing rule but it showed exactly how much Bruce could put away.

Twelve minutes and thirty-seven seconds in and Bruce had finished his fish, his chips, the tartar sauce, both sides, his water, and a handful of Tony’s leftover chips. The cook didn’t believe them and actually checked under the table for the food, but it wasn’t there, Tony had video proof. Proof he’d sent on to every Avenger with a phone as well as a few other friends who didn’t suit up with the team but were just as valuable.

Unrolling the duct tape, that distinct sound adding to the ceremony of it all. With no effort put forth they scribbled down the name Bruce Roberts. There was no way Bruce was going to have his name on the wall but what Tony didn’t know was this was the closest to his real name Bruce had ever given.

Instead, Tony was glaring at the clerk for not knowing who the man really was. They’d recognized Tony the minute he stepped in the door but not once did anyone seem to have a clue as to who he was with. Not just the Hulk but the scientist that was Dr. Bruce Banner. Tony let it go, but he wasn’t happy about it.

They were able to turn down the picture, which was uncommon in Bruce’s experience and he knew it was because of Tony that it worked this time. Tony Stark got whatever he wanted. As they refunded the money, Bruce noshed on the cold fries from Tony’s side of the table casually.

Tony pushed the bowl of baked beans towards Bruce, figured those would at least taste better cold than the pressed potatoes soggy with grease and Bruce started to eat the beans. The employees almost fell over from shock when he came back with Bruce’s money and the free t-shirt, the last of his prizes.

It looked to be at least an XXXL, Bruce wasn’t sure who the intended person was for this shirt, but it wasn’t him. The front read “I’m a big, fat b@$tard! I can’t believe I ate the whole thing!”

The instant he read it, Tony doubled over with laughter and he couldn’t stop. Even wiping a mock tear away, the shirt was too great. Bruce glared, but it did little to stop the laughter and soon Tony was talking the other into a  picture with a promise of how it wasn’t going onto the wall here so it was good. Until he sent it to everyone he knew, but Bruce wouldn’t know about that until later.

This was nice. Tony was sitting recovering from having laughed so hard he felt like he was going to throw up the ninety pounds of french fries in his stomach. He was in some tiny, hipster hot spot in the middle of the day, he’d not even had enough alcohol to classify as drinking, and he was having an absolute blast. Full or food and vowing to never eat again but it was worth it. It was worth overdosing on potatoes to sit here and have a relaxed good time with Bruce.

Boxed up leftovers that no one would ever eat were bagged and with his shirt thrown over his shoulder Bruce led the way to the car. He’d managed to put together a decent date. Much like Tony he’d had a great time only he expected to. That was the whole point, to come out and have a good time, to enjoy each other’s company and not be talking about their work.

“I can’t even pretend to be your weight class.”

“Told you I’d win. That one wasn’t even hard.”

“You ate my chips for me and that’s as far as I got.”

“But I’ve had much bigger challenges. The good ones are the steakhouse ones. They give you this slab of meat you could call a bed. It’s pretty filling.”

“Why didn’t I know this about you? The love for torturing yourself.”

“That wasn’t obvious from day one? You met me aboard a flying boat where we signed up to attack aliens. I think torture is sort of our thing.”

“You make a good point.”

Bruce stretched out, basking in the warmth of another victory awarded to him. He was still in a good mood, playful and now that he'd had food it was easier to joke and laugh and let the afternoon be as fun as it should be. With what one could only call a mischievous smile he turned to Tony “Want to stop by that cupcakes place? Today seems like a good day to try them.” the statement's riddled with laughter, a rare sound from Bruce, and came out completely once he'd finished talking.

 


End file.
